Rag Dolls
by afro-dreads
Summary: ...I can look back at one of my biggest regrets I had made since it all fell to pieces. Ash. My little brother.
1. Chapter 1

A little something that I daydream far too much about. It goes further, but I'd like to see a few others opinions on my writing skills, plot-wise and etc. If wouldn't mind it continued please say so J

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

My family as a whole were never easy.

My real mother from what I could ever gather was a drifter and I was just one of places that faded in the background for her. Dad lied to me back then, told me she'd left and she'd come back one day far from now, smile and try all he could to distract me with something else. But back then I knew that one day would never come, I could tell even so young it was never possible, from the ways his eyes dulled when he said those words told me all I needed, and even to this day he's never told me what really happened. But it remains unspoken that I know, I know mother had gone and that she wasn't coming back.

Then Delia came. I never had liked her.

But Dad had hoped my fear would fade in time, that Delia would replace this woman before me as a mother.

And I had never wanted that. As I young kid I drew, I didn't play with other kids, I didn't even go outside to draw the pretty flowers and the sunset on summery days because there was only one thing I wanted to draw. One thing that wanted perfect on a piece of paper and hold in my arms. A drawing of my mother. And as each day passed on it became harder not better, with each day her memory faded, it was like the memory of her face was like a giant jigsaw and as time went on piece by piece were taken away.

And then Delia came and she began to wipe away the whole portrait.

And I hated her for it. I hated when the family hovered round us when she came in, when they all gave me horrible glances and paraded around Delia like some angel, yes I had guessed my Mother had never left a good mark when she was here and I guessed they saw her in me but…

I felt so angry back then I never looked before I leaped.

And perhaps now that I think back to my abhorrence to her had I realise it had never done me anything good in my family's eyes. It all makes sense now that the years passed and you can look at things when there not suffocating you so now I can look back at one of my biggest regrets I had made since it all fell to pieces.

Ash.

My little brother.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Contrary to belief the past does come back to haunt, that dispute how many layers your bury it under someone is always able to bring it right back up again. Whether they choose to its their choice, rarely yours.

That's how I would describe this moment right now.

My brother had grown a lot, he was different from the small boy I ridiculed as a teenager but there was still that innocence around him he had as a small boy, I guessed he'd do a Ketchum growth spurt and shot up one day and tower over the rest of us. But he had still grown, his face was less babyish, I saw Dad in him. I saw Dad's face in his, saw dad's eyes widen, I saw Dad's mouth hid his gritted teeth.

"Sidney." But it wasn't Dad's voice I heard from his lips.

There was no denying it. I knew it was him and he knew it was me so there was no way we could pretend this meeting ever happened. I swallowed. I tried to settle my mind on talking to him instead of blocking him out as always.

I just nodded.

He said nothing more, which didn't shock me I am sure that this was horrible for both of us, old wounds opened up that we wanted closed. I could see Kelo glanced at me from my feet, he guessed this was my brother in front of me; I suppose I had told him so much of the brother I had but the Pikachu by his side glanced in between us nervously, it didn't know. Ash had probably never told him. Not that I blamed him. So part of me wanted to go because I knew that Ash had no desire to let me in after all those years. But another part of me at least wanted him to know that I wasn't the same bastard I was eight years ago, that now I didn't want to scream at him, swear, ridicule and mock him until I was happy he wasn't.

Yeah I was a real angel as a kid, I wouldn't have been surprised if he spat in my face and ran.

"Ash?"

But I don't know why I opened my fucking mouth. Why I just didn't keep on walking instead of opening him up to stuff I knew he didn't want to see. Back then my intention was to harm and it was never justified, I had been old enough to know my actions then and I still continued…

"I should go."

Yes. You should. Part of me still yearned to let him know that I'd grown, that I learned from hurting him before. But I couldn't stop myself from digging myself in a deeper grave by speaking, I opened my mouth, I knew the words I would say but I tried and tried but it seemed after each attempt to block them they came flying from mind to mouth tenfold, and stronger than ever.

"Ash-- I. Look I know you hate me but listen to me--!"

His eyes looked trapped and I knew this where it was caving . Badly.

"Am traveling with other people I don't wanna keep them waiting--"

"look am not the same--"

"I'll tell mum I met up with you--"

"Just listen to me Ash. Please? I just want to tell you--"

"I REALLY HAVE TO GO!"

I flinched, I watched him. Watched him as his trembling fingertips came to his mouth and he hesitantly matched my gaze. He was sorry, very sorry, outburst like that didn't come often. But it made me wonder what kind of person he'd become, what was his likes and his dislikes, if he'd had any girl friend and what were they like, what are his friends like and how he acts. I had wanted to ask because before I never could, mum and dad had faded so far from each other communication had crumbled in the process. But I remembered the place they lived before. Pallet. The place of open country and the tranquil settings which I loved drawing as I child, the piles of childish pictures of the fields, and building less sunsets in storage boxes in dad's house reminded me.

But I guess that it would be best if I didn't venture.

My distance with my brother had been a bittersweet fact in my brain before, one which I truly never acknowledged changing, if I ever had wanted it to. But we had own worlds to worry for, he had his own world while I remained with mine, the main problem had disappeared, we were free to live both our lives without interruption or drama, its what we both wanted right?

So in the end I forced a smile.

"Yeah, you should go."

And I turned before the last memory of my brother would be him walking out of my life away again.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Rate or slate (with reason why)


	2. Chapter 2

To my review (shit! I have reviewers) What Farla wrote did not effect my long hiatus, it just pointed out something I knew I maybe didn't point out earlier.

I am aware my writing basically fails in grammar and so on, but unlike many others on here with the same problem I choose to actually listen when people say: "Oh your grammar is wrong, here's what you shall do..."

I like writing, I want to publish a book but realise I have a lot to do because that dream can become true. So if you have any suggestions, crit, anything I would love it. And I shall come back to fixing these flaws that I can change in time, when things die down where I live.

On to the next chapter.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Once I had a brother, he was born sixteen years ago. Home born. In the rush of family and home doctors.

They called him Ashton.

I didn't care.

Accept when I saw his face. His eyes like my fathers, and the same coloured strands of hair.

I remember being so hurt back then, my childhood mind somehow coming to the conclusion that Delia was at fault. Some how, by her will she made the baby before me the living image of my father while I was the sight of everything all my family hated. They cradled Ashton, babbled over him selfishly and if he would have lifted a finger they all would have jumped.

So of course I rejected him.

Said some hurtful things, and now it was all hitting me back.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dad never married again, he kept in touch with Delia for a little while and I guess it failed.

We grew with each other in the way we should in the first place. And for those long wonderful years it had never hit me I had a brother living his own life. Not spoiled not coddled over and as any other boy should have any more. All the feelings of jealously began to fade with time. And they all crumbled when I sat there watching him on TV.

My spoiled brother was on the screen, yelling to his rebelling Charizard to battle. Watch it stand stubborn, and lost the battle.

That was a five years ago.

I could have visited once.

Five years I thought to, but any step I took to it I remembered something, a harsh word, and insult, a slap from childhood then came to the conclusion why should I even try.

So there he was before my eyes, grown and not so little any more and he stood scared.

I was a horrible person.

I didn't deserve to be his brother.

So what did I do, I ignored him. Pretended he didn't exist and hoped to on my way so I had an even better chance of forgetting it all. Checked the next trains timetable and hoped I ran, I spent the night and early hours of the morning watching pointless late night shows until my mind stopped being restless and let me sleep.

The trains stopped moving because of a natural hazard.

It were as if Ho-oh itself had gotten bored of my avoidance and moved fate that we had no choice but to confront it all. My money ran low and even if I had called dad for an extra bit to pay for a few more days until transport was available I would need somewhere to stay until it came through, and dad knowing me well would not do so until I had someone safe to keep myself.

This eventually pushed me to find somewhere, no matter how stubborn.

I fiddled with the change in my pocket and wondered if I could brave the elements with no proper equipment and make it out alive.

Then I laughed. In was never a nature man.

I fiddled the thought of going to my brother. Just fiddled, didn't ever think it would happen, just had a stray thought when I was too hungry to block the thought of him out. Perhaps he would actually forget our previous years and try not to stab me in my sleep a bitter part of me began, and I couldn't help but agree.

Then I actually thought of calling dad and saying: "Hey I have no one to look after me so how about we call the wicked witch- I mean aunty Yuki to help me out so am not in a body bag."

Then I realised anyone in my family who wasn't dad just saw my mother not me.

Which wasn't too surprising. I had found a picture of her and noticed we looked alike. I had her red hair and her lighter skin tone, I had her eye shape, her strong chin, my hair was curly and short as hers was and other features that made,me quite a feminine boy growing up. Dad's features kick in more than before, I smile his smile, laugh his laugh and frown his frown and standing next to him mum's features are faint, faint not gone.

Sometimes there still is a part of me that doesn't like that.

But was going to promise not to linger on that any more.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-z-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Ho-oh was persistent. If the subject of the brother came up again in this book I would throw it at something or either cook it over the fire of its front and back covers.

And me being so hungry I probably enjoy it.

So tenth page I threw the thing and just sat by the wall, banging my skull against it in hope it did something other than remind me of my brother. Which lead me to the thought that before, seeing other boys with their younger brothers, watching films or just passing them never triggered me to be like this. If it had gotten even close this I pushed myself away from it all and it would never come up for a long time. I wondered if it was because he had seen me, I found I wanted to learn so much about him even after I told myself I never needed to. I wanted to know what his favourite colour, Pokemon, show, book. What did he dislike and what did he like, how was he now and what was his mother doing.

I wondered if she had ever forgiven me for being such a brat with her, to her son.

My stomach grumbled. My nations were running short so I had to stretch to much for my liking. Two weeks, and food for 5 days. Not good maths.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Day three of nations got boring because there was nothing to do in the area that didn't need money, I ate day fours rations and told myself I could drink water if my stomach grumbled the next day. I swear I heard somewhere it said you can last on water for a day or something.

The Ho-oh destined book sat in corner and collected dust. The sun shone though my hotel window and I sighed.

I thought of his fearful eyes again.

I played with small plates of lunch and diner, licked crumbs for fun and sung songs that echoed boredom and watched the day go on, minute by minute.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Next day I nibbled day fives rations and tried a walk to stop my mind from going places I didn't like. I tried this until my mind wondered so I started to jog in fields, then tried a sprint a long hard one which smartly left me gasping for breath later.

So I collapsed on the field, knackered, hungry and tormented.

Woke up two hours later and walked back to the hotel. Then realised how tired I was a fell asleep right as I hit my bedroom floor.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I actually woke up at 3:30 next day, ate that day's breakfast lunch and dinner.

And just walked. I walked paused to break and I thought of my family again, pulled my dead feet another 10 minutes of so and repeated this process until none of my body could take it any more and dropped to the same field as before.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I woke up to cooking, voices speaking about his awake in hushed voices about me awakening and a bitter part of me wondered if they were going to eat me.

So when I opened, my eyes and saw a kind looking man a few years younger than me my thoughts were killed. I was going to live to see my thirtieth.

"Surprisingly I don't do this often." I began as we made eye contact.

"Thank goodness for that, its safe to say you haven't been eating enough for your heath."

Usually am rebellious at any comment that involve me doing wrong, whether right or wrong but a part of me had to agree but the reason was out of my control.

"Couldn't help it, the trains were on a cancellation." see I held back on the bite, I was being a good boy.

"I'll give you that, a lot of people who using them find themselves in a bit of a pickle."

"Then why pick on me?"

"Because there inside keeping to themselves not running aimlessly when they barely have the food to support that energy use."

True. I was beginning to hate that tone of voice the one that you use with young children.

"Sure." I began "But your not my mother neither my father so don't speak to me like you are." I pulled myself off the ground and smelted the wonderful smell of food. I had to get out of there.

"Are you hungry?"

"Brock!" Another voice called out.

"Dawn we mustn't be rude, he is a guest and we never refuse them food." There it was that parent never to be questioned tone but unlike me it worked on her. She said nothing else.

I turned to the younger man, his expression level, perhaps he had dealt with dealing with the stubborn because his gaze was questioning me to refuse something he knew I would need. I rose an eyebrow in question, I wondered if he knew how stubborn I truly was...

"Al right, what you serving then?"

I decided to stay for a bit, my stomach sung in relief.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Writing Sydney is fun, yes I am aware of flaws and so on, wouldn't mind you telling me and improvements.


End file.
